


spot 776

by quietgal



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, actor!Alfred, model!arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-16 09:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8097193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietgal/pseuds/quietgal
Summary: Arthur couldn't help but smile and pick up his pace a little when he saw the car waiting for him. He slid into the passenger's seat and took off his sunglasses. As he turned to look at the person in the driver's seat, his heartbeat quickened: that smile always did him in.





	1. Chapter 1

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief as he walked through the empty parking lot. There had been too many people at the shoot; he was grateful for this moment alone. Pushing up his sunglasses, he scanned the numbers painted in white on the ground. 881, 880, 879. Waiting for parking spot 776. That stupid patriot had insisted on spot 776. Arthur had relented, so long as he didn't come in that ridiculous red Ferrari.

Arthur couldn't help but smile and pick up his pace a little when he saw the tan (much more sensible) car waiting in spot 776. He slid into the passenger's seat and took off his sunglasses. As he turned to look at the person in the driver's seat, his heartbeat quickened: that smile always did him in.

"Hey, babe." Arthur lived for the calm moments he could have with Alfred, when his lover's voice wasn't screechy or irritating at all – instead, it was soothing, comforting, low. Arthur couldn't resist kissing him, despite the annoying nickname.

"I told you not to call me that," he murmured as they pulled away from their slow, romantic kiss.

Alfred chuckled. "I know, but I can't help it." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Of course you can. You're not trying at all," he huffed, crossing his arms.

Alfred leaned in a bit, smirking. "Can you blame me?"

Arthur blushed, holding his gaze for a moment before quickly turning away. "Yes," he mumbled. Alfred just laughed.

"How was the shoot, sweetheart?" Alfred took off his own sunglasses. He reached over Arthur to search the glovebox for his prescription lenses. Arthur watched him.

"It's not over, actually," he admitted. "We're on break."

"What?" Alfred furrowed his eyebrows, glancing quickly at Arthur. "I thought you said you'd be done by two."

Arthur pressed his lips together in a sort-of-guilty smile. "I suppose we're going overtime. They keep asking me to change into something else. They're very rude, actually. I don't think I'll be working with them again. " Alfred had finally found his glasses case. As he straightened up to open it, it was easy for Arthur to see he was frustrated, and his mood quickly saddened. "I-I'm sorry, Al."

"Well, it's just that I have to be back on set in an hour." Alfred took out his glasses as well as his microfiber cleaning cloth, not looking at Arthur. "I thought we could spend some time together." He begun to clean his glasses lenses.

"I still have a few more minutes," Arthur tried. Alfred didn't respond for a moment, and Arthur's posture shrunk a little with shame. He couldn't help but look away; he hated when his normally happy and forgiving boyfriend was angry with him. Noting the still open glovebox, he closed it before turning back to Alfred. "... Do you want me to clean your glasses for you?"

Alfred continued his task meticulously, seemingly determined not to look at his lover. "I'm almost done." Arthur nodded, then waited until he finished. Alfred soon put the cloth back in his case. As Alfred put his glasses on, Arthur bit his lip: the glasses seemed to age Alfred about five years. It was no wonder that the teen heartthrob often opted for contacts.

Alfred looked at him for a moment before speaking. "This is really… hard," he said finally.

Arthur was quickly concerned. "What is? The drive out? I can help you pay for gas money, or perhaps I could meet you in the middle somewhere–"

"No, no." Alfred shook his head quickly. "Just… y'know. Hiding us." Arthur froze at that.

"… Then, what?" Arthur asked quietly. "You want to go public with this?"

Alfred hesitated. "I don't know." His eyes darted around the car, as if the answer to his problem might be written on the leather finishing. "I just wish I could spend more time with you, and… and go on a real date. Not just hanging out in my car, or at some weird club." Arthur went to speak, but Alfred just rolled his eyes. "Ugh, I know you like it there, but it was so sus."

"So _what_?" Arthur managed, confused.

Alfred groaned. "Sus, babe. It means, like, shady."

Arthur stared at him for a moment, then shook his head, not wanting to discuss his lover's use of idiotic slang at the moment. "Well, I'm not sure if I'm ready to go public."

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows, distressed. "Why not? It's been, like, a year! You know I'm serious about this–"

"Alfred, it's been eight months."

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Ugh, same difference."

Arthur scowled. "I don't want to go public yet, and that's the end of it! We were supposed to spend time together today, not argue!"

Alfred was quickly angered; he always became stubborn and defensive in the face of conflict. "Yeah, we _were_ supposed to spend time together today! You're cutting it short with your stupid photoshoot! You're always blowing me off to model!"

"It's my job, Alfred!" Arthur shouted, outraged. "I wouldn't ask you to leave one of your stupid Disney filmsets just to sit with me in my car!"

"I don't work for Disney anymore!" Alfred shouted back.

"Oh, please, that's all anyone remembers you for, anyway!"

"I'm a serious actor! I'm good at it, I can do anything I want!"

"Oh, is that so? Did your mum tell you that?"

"No! My agent did!"

"Right, sorry, I forgot that you child actors call your mums 'agents.'"

Alfred only gave a melodramatic gasp at that, speechless. After a moment or two, he began to speak again. "Y-You–"

"I'll let myself out," Arthur grimaced, opening the car door. "Call me when you're done being a moron." He got out and slammed the door shut. He hoped the creative producers were ready for some fierce facial expressions, because that's certainly what they'd be getting.


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred was such an idiot.

He never called. It had been three weeks and he hadn’t _fucking_  called. That moron couldn’t get his head out of his own arse and stop being vain for three minutes just to call Arthur and tell him what the hell was going on.

Arthur wouldn’t admit it, but he regretted being so short with Alfred in the car. He hadn’t expected the silent treatment: after all, they were supposed to be in a relationship! Dating! How could Alfred leave him in the dark for so long? It wasn’t right. Especially not when Alfred’s life was getting so _interesting._

The whole argument had stemmed from publicity issues in their relationship. Arthur didn’t want to tell the media, and Alfred did. That was still true. Arthur didn’t want his relationship status interfering with any work opportunities. 

But Alfred’s latest movie premiered. Arthur certainly wouldn’t have minded going public with their relationship while standing on a red carpet. Or, in the very least, going as Alfred’s date! Was that too fucking much to ask?

Alfred had been written up about in social media, newspaper articles, magazines – all glowing reviews. He had even been nominated for a stupid Teen Choice Award. 

And so, Arthur sat on his couch, curled up with tea and chocolates, watching it. The damn semblance of an award show that Nickelodeon or Disney or whoever the hell hosted it put on every year. It was so stupid. And yet, he continued to watch. 

He scowled at the sight of his boyfriend, looking stupidly gorgeous in his casual-looking outfit (Arthur quietly thanked god he _wasn’t_ at the award show for fear of wearing such silly clothing on national television), with his _date_. Alfred had the gall to _take someone else to the award show._  To be fair, it was his female co-star, and Arthur knew that Alfred was very, very gay. But still. 

Arthur shoved another handful of chocolates into his mouth. 

After seeming hours of watching teenagers scream for their lives, the host finally got around to Alfred’s category. “Teen Choice Award for Choice Male Hottie.”

Even alone on his couch, Arthur could’ve died for second-hand embarrassment. Stupid Alfred was all smiles when the camera panned to him. Goddamn idiot. 

Arthur rolled his eyes when Alfred inevitably won. 

He squished a chocolate in his hand as Alfred hugged his co-star and got up to receive the award.

He didn’t even care as the caramel filling dripped onto the couch as Alfred waved to all of the beautiful Hollywood men in the audience. _Ugh_. 

Alfred finally made his way up to the podium. He laughed as he took hold of the ridiculous surfboard-shaped award.

“Dude, this is so awesome!” Alfred yelled into the microphone. The audience cheered back at him, causing another fit of laughter from Arthur’s stupid, annoying, embarrassing boyfriend. “Thanks for voting for me, you guys! This is totally incredible!”

“I didn’t vote for you,” Arthur mumbled to his television, licking up the caramel on his fingers. 

“Uh, jeez, I don’t even know what to say! This is f–”

Arthur winced at the harsh noise of the censor.

“–king awesome! Oh, sorry! Pretend I didn’t say that! It is that awesome, though!” Alfred laughed. Of course, the audience laughed with him. That moron had too much charisma for his own good.

Arthur groaned, letting his head fall to look at his lap. _So embarrassing._  He was still mad at Alfred for not inviting him, but he was so glad he wasn’t there. 

 “Um, um, okay, I have, like, a _ton_  of people to thank–”

Alfred started listing all of the people who worked on the movie with him. That little eyebrow raise and grin when he mentioned the name of his co-star absolutely enflamed Arthur. That fucking arsehole, acting like he didn’t have a boyfriend he’d been ghosting for three weeks. Arthur scowled and dug his hand back into his box of chocolates. 

When he didn’t find another chocolate, his eyebrows rose and he turned his head to look inside the box. He had eaten _all of them?_  Oh, god, his manager was going to be furious when she saw today’s calorie count. He had a photoshoot to do tomorrow, too, didn’t he? He wondered how long it took to visibly gain weight. Or maybe he could go to the gym early tomorrow morning. Yes, he’d have to do that. What could help now, though? Perhaps a drink of water might help digestion. _Hydration is key_ , he heard the his personal trainer say in his head. He stood and walked to his kitchen to fill a glass with tap water.

And then he heard it. 

“– and hey, Artie, baby, I know you’re watching!”

Arthur rushed back into the living room, eyes re-glued to the television. 

“I’m gonna make reservations at a super fancy restaurant tonight for us, okay?” Alfred was shouting into the microphone, looking right into the camera and, subsequently, right into Arthur’s eyes. “And I’m gonna reserve a huge hotel room, too! It’s gonna be awesome! I’ll see you there, honey! Love you! Uh, so yeah! Thanks, everyone! Good night!”

And then that stupid idiot walked off stage as if nothing had happened. 

Three fucking weeks, and he still had the gall to assume that Arthur would be watching the stupidest award show of all time just to see if he won some ridiculous award, and then he would assume that Arthur was still willing to go out with him on that very night?! With almost no time to prepare? Alfred _knew_  that Arthur liked to have his personal stylist’s opinion before he went out, and–

And wait a second, had Alfred just said that in front of _thousands of people?!_

Arthur’s phone buzzed with a text from Alfred’s manager. Reservation details at the fanciest grill in LA, as well as the suite they would be staying in at Arthur’s favorite English-style hotel. 

Alfred was _such_  an idiot. 


End file.
